


I dream of flames, hell, and you

by Winmance



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, M/M, Nightmares, Protective Dean Winchester, Soulmates, mention of Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 03:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12673659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winmance/pseuds/Winmance
Summary: Sam started to have nightmares when he was 6 months old, and it never stopped since, to his parents confusion.His brother is the only one to be able to help him, but when the confusion between the real world and the dream world becomes stronger, will Dean be able to help him ?





	I dream of flames, hell, and you

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the amazing (and that's a weak word) twizted_dezirez who beta this work !

Sam always had nightmares. His mom said that it started when he was 6 months. He woke up crying so hard that for a moment, his parents thought he was hurt. They tried everything to calm him down, from long car ride to making him sleep curled up with them. But Sam would just yell louder, making the neighbors wonder what was really happening to this poor baby.

In the end, the solution came by itself. Or rather, Dean came by _himself_. He crawled into Sam’s tiny bed, took him in his arms, and for the first time, Sam slept without any problem.

It goes like that until Sam was 6, and their parents decided that Dean was too old to sleep with his brother. After a lot of negotiation, they finally agreed to allow Dean to sleep in the same room,

“But in two different beds” His dad said, looking at Dean with suspicious eyes, like it was Dean who wanted this in the first place.

“Yes dad,” Dean replied, head down like when he just did something bad and dad’s punishing him. Sam frowns, wondering why Dean and he can’t share a bed anymore, and why Dean looks so ashamed.

He waits until they were both in their room, sure that their parents were sleeping, before turning his whole body in his brother’s direction.

“De,” He whispered, “Dee!”

“Hmm?”

“Are you sleeping?”

“What does it look like?” His brother was trying to sound pissed, but Sam knew better than to believe him.

“Why can’t we sleep together again?” His voice was way less confident then what he was excepted, and he realizes that this new sleeping arrangement hurts him more than he thought.

“I…” Dean sighs before getting up and walking forward Sam. He sits on his bed, looking as ashamed as he was with dad. “I was into a fight. At school. Because… Some other kids, they said that the way we acted together it was… It wasn’t right, you know? They said we were freaks, because they saw us holding hands and all of that. I tried to tell them that it wasn’t sick, that it was just because you’re my brother, and my best friend. We end up fighting and the director called mom and dad. Our parents said that maybe we are too close. So, they took the matter into their own hands.”

They stay silent for a long moment, Sam not real sure what to do with this information. Why do those people call them sick? He wasn’t sick. You’re sick when your throat hurts, or when you’ve got a fever. But freak, he knows that word. It wasn’t a nice word. It wasn’t fair for him to be a freak because he loves his brother. Plenty of people hold hands in the street, so why should it be a problem for them?

He turned his body, so he could put his head on his brother’s lap, big green eyes looking at him before a hand was on his hair. He leans on the comforting feeling, enjoying his brother’s closeness.

“I want us to sleep in the same bed,” He whispered, even if he knows that it wasn’t his brother’s call at all.

“I know kiddo. What about I stay with you until you fall asleep?”

Sam nodded, knowing that it was the best he could get, and closed his eyes, rocked by the movements of his brother’s hands.

“I’ve got you Sammy,” Dean whispered before dropping a kiss on his brother’s head. “Always.”

The next morning, Dean was back in his bed, and Sam tried not to let his disappointment show. He knows that this situation was just as hard for Dean as it is him.

He didn’t have nightmares last night. He dreamt that he was with Dean, in what seemed to be a motel room, eating lucky charms in a bed, curl inside his brother’s legs. It was them, but without being them. Their clothes didn’t fit, Dean looked a little too skinny, and their parents weren’t here, which was weird because it was night and they never stay alone at night. Still, Sam considers it a good dream, because whoever this Sam and Dean were, he could feel that they both were happy, and together.

 

When Dean was 16, he moved in the room next to Sam’s. No one told him anything, not mom, or dad. What’s worse was Dean didn’t even say anything. He came back to school to find his room – and how weird was it that it wasn’t _their_ room anymore- with only one bed inside, all Dean’s clothes and belongings gone.

“Dean?” He yelled, afraid that something happened to his brother. Maybe his parents were getting a divorce and they wanted to keep one kid each. Lately, they seemed to fight a lot, but Sam could never hear what it was about.

“In my room.” Dean replied, his tone icy.

Sam could feel his heart beating so fast in his chest that he was afraid he may go out. He opened the door and slid into the unknown room.

Dean was sitting on his bed, a book between his hands. Not for the first time, Sam was amazed by his brother’s beauty. Dean started to grow up lately, voice getting a little rougher, hair darken slightly, and he was more muscular and tall now. Sam wonders what it must feel to be pressed against his brother’s body, to feel those pink and full lips against his. They start talking about sex at school, between friends, and when all of them were thinking about hot chick, like they called them, Sam was thinking about Dean. He never said that, though.

“You’re gonna stare all day?” Dean was annoyed, and he wasn’t hiding it.

“Why are you in this room?”

“It’s my room,” Dean answered, like it was the most evident thing in the word. Like they didn’t spend the last 12 years sleeping in the same room, in the same bed for the 6 first years.

“No. Your room is next to this one. With me.”

“Drop it Sam.”

“No! I’m gonna talk with mom and dad. They can’t force us into separate rooms.” He starts to turn around, anger filling his veins, but Dean’s voice stopped him.

“It was my decision. I don’t want to share a room with you anymore.”

He remembered a dream that he had not long ago, where other-Sam was left alone in a motel room, without Dean, and he spent the whole night crying, feeling so alone, unwanted, and unloved. When he had woke up, he was glad to see Dean next to him, caressing his hair and whispering reassuring words. Promising that he would never, ever leave him.

Apparently, _never_ means one week later.

He didn’t answer his brother, too hurt to say anything, and only walked to his room, collapsing on his bed. Did he do something wrong? Is this some sort of punishment because of the thought he had with his brother? No one knows. He never says it aloud, let alone to Dean. But maybe his brother found out. Dean always found everything out. Like last year when Timmy Smith was bulling him, and Sam refused to tell anyone, but Dean figured things out and the next day. Timmy had black eyes and never touch Sam again. This is what Dean does. He protects Sam, he does everything he can for his brother to be happy, even if it means giving him the last part of pie, or walking with him to the library on a Sunday. If Sam asked him, Dean would fetch the moon in a heart-beat, not carrying about physical law, or the consequences. Because Sam was Dean’s world, and Dean was his.

“Sam, dinner’s ready,” His mom was on the other side of the door, probably feeling that Sam wanted to be alone.

“I’m not hungry.” Only now he realized that he had been crying, his weak voice was a good indication.

His mom stays silent for a moment, probably debating if she should force him or not.

“Ok sweetie. Just… Come see me if you want to talk, alright?”

His first instinct was to nod, even if his mom couldn’t see him. He heard her walking away, and more tears slid down his cheeks. His stomach was hurting, as much as his head, and all he could think about was going to Dean, so he could make things better. He would put Sam in his bed, make him hot soup, talk to him about anything, until Sam felt asleep on Dean’s chest, his brother’s scent all over him. But Dean wasn’t here. He wasn’t going to make him better.

Sam closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep. If he couldn’t spend time with his Dean, other-Dean would be more than happy to do so.

Other-Sam and other-Dean were on the floor, in what seemed to be a wrestling cession, but rapidly, other-Dean was on other-Sam, tickling him until he was crying and begging him to stop. Sam smiled, remembering his own Dean giving him the same treatment. But then everything falls away, the room goes dark, not a single light or sound. He was alone, trying to find the door so he could get out. He screamed for Dean to come, to save him, but no sound came out.  Suddenly, he saw them. In the corner of the room a pair of yellow eyes were looking at him with so much intensity that Sam shivered. The room burst into flames with Sam in it. Excruciating pain was the last thing he felt.

He felt someone shaking him and a voice calling out to him, but he couldn’t tell who it was. He opened his eyes slowly, and found Dean in front of him holding his head between his hands. His mom and dad were looking at him with terrified eyes.

“Sammy! Hey buddy, are you ok? You freaked us out man.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He tried again, tears already forming in his eyes when he realized that there no sound coming, that his lips just keep forming the same word, but they can’t hear him, he can’t hear himself.

“It’s alright Sammy, I promise.” Before realizing it, he is in Dean’s arms, feeling kisses on his head, while mom is crying and his dad calls the doctor.

Emotional shock. That’s what the doctor called it. He said that it’s usually temporary, and there’s nothing that they can do about it. The house stays silent for two days, mom doing her best not to show how sad and worried she is, dad gone, god knows where, and Dean just stares at Sam like he is a ghost.

Sam can’t sleep. Refuses to sleep. Being mute is nothing compared to what is waiting for him if he closes his eyes again. He still can remember how it felt, being burned alive, how it smells. The yellow eyes. He can remember them, too, watching him. Did other-Sam saw him too?

He hasn’t eaten since it happened, and mom’s afraid he will have to go to the hospital. She kept asking him to eat, just a little, for her. But every time the food is in contact with his lips, the same scent came back: his own skin burning.

It’s 1 am, and he’s in his room, looking at the empty space where Dean’s bed used to be. Maybe it’s just God’s punishment for his impure thoughts. He’s guilty for loving his brother, but as much as this punishment hurts, as much as he wants it to stop, he can’t find himself to stop. He will be guilty for this crime until the day he dies.

He heard someone knocking on his door, which is stupid because how is he supposed to answer anyway? The person must realize his mistake, because the door opened without Sam’s moving.

“Can I come in?” His brother asked, looking everywhere but at Sam

Sam wants to scream, to tell him that it’s his room as much as his, that he doesn’t need permission, never did, never will. But instead, he just nodded.

Dean doesn’t know what to do at first, Sam can tell. He’s looking everywhere, trying to find where to sit, and since when their relationship become this awkward?

Finally, he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Sammy, I… I’m sorry”

Out of all the things Sam was excepting, that the very last one. He frowns and places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Dean freezes. Sam pulls his hand away, his heart aching.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Dean asked, but he’s not excepting an answer “I… I was trying to do the right thing. I never wanted to hurt you.” He raises his head, and Sam can see tears in his eyes. “You’ve got to believe me Sammy. I never, _ever_ wanted to hurt you. I rather die than hurt you.”

Sam nodded. He knows that. Or he used to. He doesn’t know what’s real anymore.

“I… I can’t sleep, when you’re not there, you know? All those years, I said it was for you, but it’s for me as well. I need to know that you’re safe, that you’re here. Being with you… It’s like being home, you know? And I… I was afraid that I was bad for you. That I was keeping you here, with me, instead of letting you grow.”

A single tear rolls on Dean check, and even if he shouldn’t, Sam decided to push it away by kissing it. Dean jumps a little, not excepting this either, but he doesn’t say anything. Sam takes his hands, forcing him to lay down.

They are facing each other, close enough for their bodies to touch, but not their mouths. Sam’s tracing every freckle of Dean’s face with his fingers, trying to memorize them all. It’s like a constellation, like Dean was his own universe, composed of millions of stars that shine for Sam and Sam alone. His brother is caressing his hair, and Sam wonders what he’s thinking. Does he feel like this, too? Like Sam is his sun, his moon, his everything? Or does he _only_ see a little brother when he looks at him? Maybe that’s it? Where Sam sees gold, Dean only sees dust.

“I love you.” Dean whispered, like he is afraid that someone may hear him, like he is afraid Sam won’t love him back or maybe like it’s some dark hidden secret.

“Love you too, De.” Sam answers back, his voice rough from not talking for two consecutives days. Dean seems shocked, probably wasn’t excepting Sam to talk. But for Sam, it all make sense. It reminds him of how the sleeping beauty woke up thanks to true love’s kiss. Dean gave him the true love words, and Sam woke up.

They don’t talk, just put themselves closer, until Sam’s head is resting on Dean’s neck. Sam puts his legs around Dean’s, trying to put him even closer, trying to be one with him. It’s where he should be, what he should be, with Dean, nothing else between them.

He falls asleep with Dean humming in his ear.

He dreamt of the backseat of an Impala, with other-Dean smiling brightly at him and winking. He knows. Sam’s not sure of what, but he knows. Dean always knows.

 

 

One year later, everything’s back to normal. Dean kept his room, but only because mom and dad seemed relieved to see that their boys weren’t _that_ codependent. Every night, one of them sneaks inside the other’s bed, and they hold onto each other like their holding life itself, and maybe indeed they are.

Dean is 17, next year, and he will go to college. He wants to become a surgeon. “I guess I just want to be saving people, you know?” And Sam remembers hearing this somewhere once, but he can’t remember where.

The dreams are calmer now. Only good things, most of the time. Other-Sam’s life and his are different, so much different, but they both have Dean in it, and in both, he loves them. Sometimes, he sees other-Sam, but way older, in some sort of cage, and it hurts. Everything hurts, he doesn’t know why, or how, but then he’s other-Sam and he wakes up screaming. Dean’s here. Always. Everything is fine.

“Sam, are you going out with your friends tonight?” Mom asked, putting her cup of tea to her mouth.

“No, I’m just gonna hang here”

“In the house? On the 4th July?”

“Yeah”

“You know, Justin’s going out tonight, maybe I can ask him to take you with him?” Mom’s friend proposed, and what her name again? Yeah, Alicia, something like that.

“No, I’m good. Thanks though,” He took his homework in his hands – why is it a problem that he wants to stay home?

He’s already in his room when he realizes that he forgot his pen. He’s about to go upstairs again when he heard his mom talking.

“I don’t know Alicia, it’s just… Isn’t it weird, that they spend so much time together?”

“I will say that you’re lucky. My sons can’t even be in the same room more than five minutes without trying to kill each other.”

“Yeah, I know but…” His mom sighs, “Dean will be gone in less than a year. I’m not sure how Sam will do, once it happens. I just… I want what’s best for them. Their relationship isn’t heathy. It’s… Sick”

Sam goes back in his room, not sure of what to do with what he just heard. Does his mom really think that? That he and Dean are sick? Maybe they don’t have the same kind of relationship that other brothers have, and maybe yes, they’re codependent, but sick? No. They’re not sick.

He thought about next year too. Dean’s going away. They never spend more than a day without each other, never a night. How is he supposed to exist without Dean?

Other-Dean didn’t finish high school, told other-Sam that in their kind of work, it’s not needed. Sam’s not sure what their work is, but other-Sam doesn’t like it. Still, other-Dean told him – other-Sam or him, he’s not sure- that they will be together, forever. “Wherever you go, I go Sammy,” and Sam felt the joy and the love inside other-Sam. They both have feelings for their Dean that they shouldn’t have.

Other-Dean goes out a lot, brings girls back, which breaks both Sam’s hearts, but his Dean never does that. He never talked about girls, and Sam wonders why, because his brother is more than attractive. He never asked, though. When Dean goes out, it’s with his friends, and most of the time, Sam goes with him, because Dean’s friends like him -or because they don’t have a choice, he doesn’t know.

Mom and dad went out with a bunch of friends. They say not to wait up for them.

Dean’s out too. He didn’t say anything to Sam, but their parents said that he was with friends. It’s so unlike Dean to leave Sam alone that he can’t help but feel like something’s wrong.

Dean came back two hours later, a big smile on his face.

“I’ve got something for you Sammy”

They drove to the border of a forest, in the middle of nowhere in Dean’s old car. Dean doesn’t stop smiling, squeezing Sam hands, and singing so loud that Sam can’t help but smile too.

“What are we doing here?” He asked, leaning against the car

“You’ll see Sammy boy.”

He watched his brother moving, his black shirt moving with every movement, giving Sam a perfect view of his perfect skin. And what if he wants to lick every inch of that body? Does that make him sick? Probably. Not that he cares.

“Ready?”

Sam nodded and then his brother his handed him a lighter.

Fireworks.

He can’t stop smiling and laughing, watching the things take to the skies, dancing in the sparks. He fells free, and good, so good. There’s a feeling inside of him that he can’t quite name, but it’s here, and it’s good. His brother’s looking at him with so much love, and Sam can’t believe it. Can’t believe his brother would do that for him, spend all his hard-earned money on fireworks for _him_. Except that he can, believe it, because that’s the type of things Dean does.

He walks forward to his brother and hugs him, as tight as he can. Dean’s eyes are shinning with the lights, and he’s so beautiful that Sam can’t think, doesn’t think before he moves, his lips on Dean’s lips.

Dean doesn’t push him away. In fact, he pushed him closer, put his arms around his waist, and now they are really kissing. It’s Sam first kiss, but it doesn’t feel new. It’s like coming home after a long day out, like when they’re sleeping, and his body knows exactly how to angle himself to be as close as possible to Dean. It’s perfect, and it’s them.

They lay on a blanket on the ground, head against head, hands in hands.

“It’s perfect.”

“It’s supposed to be.”

They’re not sure who talks first, but it doesn’t matter.

They stay like that for a long moment; sharing kisses, talking, and laughing, until Sam falls asleep.

He lives this moment again, but he knows it’s not them. It’s other-Sam and other-Dean, kissing under the fireworks. But then, there’s someone else. It’s Dean, but a way much older Dean. He walks toward Sam.

“Hey,” He said, smiling

“Who are you?”

“I’m… Let’s say I’m Dean. But not from your word. Not from this one either. There was… A problem. A really big problem. And you suffered the consequences. I am sorry.”

“I don’t understand”

“You don’t need to. It’s alright. I end it.” Dean is smiling, reassuring, “Now, how about you get back to your own Dean? This story isn’t yours.” He winks to him, but Sam only frowns.

“I lived this moment, too. In my… When I am not sleeping.”

“Yeah?” Older-Dean smiled, and his eyes are so bright, full of emotions.

“Yeah. What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.” They’re both watching other-Sam and other-Dean kissing again. “Maybe that we’re supposed to be. No matter in what universe, in what timing, we’re… Soulmates. I guess.”

“Soulmates,” Sam replied, smiling. “I like that.”

“So, do I Sammy.”

“The yellow eyed man, is he gone?”

Older-Dean turned to him, worried for a moment, but it quickly fades away.

“Yes. We killed him. He will never come to you again. I’m protecting you.”

“I know you are”

They share a long smile, and, without any other words, Sam took Dean in his arms. They stay like that for a moment, just enjoying each other, before Sam opens his eyes again.

 

He’s on the ground, Dean – his Dean- watching him funny, the skies above them.

“Had a good dream Sammy?”

“The best!” He kissed his brother, not leaving time for Dean to say anything.

Next year, Dean will go to college, and Sam will go with him, no matter what their parents think.

Sam never dreamt of other-Sam and other-Dean again. Only his own Dean.

When his brother asked him, what were those dreams that affect him so much, Sam only smiled, curling himself a little more inside of his brother’s arms.

“You and other things. But it’s alright De. You protected me.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think of it !


End file.
